


A Widow in Iron Man's Clothing

by Tahlruil



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Oblivious Tony Stark, POV Tony Stark, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 16:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: Tony forgave Natasha for her initial deception ages ago, even before that asshole Loki turned them into a team. Letting go of that fucking assessment she'd written up for Fury had been harder, but after he'd gotten to know her a little better, he'd managed. He'd even go so far as to say they were friends - he could count on one hand the number of other people who had the honor. So he's pretty pleased about that, and if maybe he sometimes has thoughts that are a little more than friendly, he knows it's never gonna happen. Friends is a great place to be with her, so he doesn't need to push for more.He would like to know why she's suddenly around all the time though. And he'dreallylike to know why she keeps wearing his clothes.





	A Widow in Iron Man's Clothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiernaSerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiernaSerea/gifts).



> My first IronWidow fic - be kind? :'D
> 
> KiernaSerea, who has been an awesome beta and is absolutely amazing, said that she'd like to see a fic with this pairing from me. I was a little nervous, because I don't really write Natasha very much, but I figured I'd try.
> 
> I hope it doesn't suck. XD Either way, drop me a comment - constructive criticism is always welcome.

It had been a long day - or maybe a couple, but who the hell could keep track of that bullshit - and Tony was in desperate need of coffee. Not to try and stay awake, _Pepper_ , but because he'd run out of grounds in the wee hours of the morning while he was in the middle of an idea. Clint needed awesome arrows more than he'd needed caffeine just then, and he'd managed to stay buried deep enough in his work that he didn't notice the withdrawal setting in. Now that he didn't have anything keeping his hands and mind busy, it was all he could think about. He'd never be able to sleep if he didn't have some, and he'd probably go to bed after he drank a cup.

Unless he got another idea, of course.

He could have gone to the common floor since there was definitely coffee there. As a bonus, someone probably could have told him what day it was. JARVIS wouldn't tell him, because he'd been talking too much to Pepper and was starting to adopt her ideas about 'normal sleep schedules, Sir' and was currently in a snit because Tony had ignored the AI's attempts to send him to bed several times. Just before he headed off that way, however, he remembered that Steve was even _worse_ than Pepper when it came to sleeping and eating regularly, and he could just check the date on his phone. With the loss of the only real advantage and the addition of an irritation, Tony decided he might as well go straight to the penthouse where nobody could scold him.

Tony was wondering how Sunday had turned into Wednesday when the elevator doors slid open. He was so busy trying to figure out which things he'd engineered on which days as a way to mark the time that he almost didn't realize that he had a guest. An uninvited assassin guest. Which was... fine, he guessed. It was just that he didn't know what to say, and Natasha didn't even look up from the book she was reading, leaving him just sort of standing awkwardly in his own living room, staring.

The longer he stared, the weirder things got, to be honest. She was reading a Harry Potter book, which was... fine. A little out of character maybe, but whatever. She was laying down on his couch with her feet dangling over one arm despite having more than enough room to stretch out entirely, leaving one half of the couch empty. Her toes were bopping to some song only she could hear, and her toenails were a violent shade of purple that meant they'd probably been painted by Clint, and that was all - again - fine. The people he lived with were fucking weird, every single on of them, him and J included. So he could even have lived with the fact that she was eating the last of chocolate cake he'd brought up to this floor specifically so _he_ could eat it. She was an assassin and a spy, and sometimes she found secret shit and stole it. Fine. Whatever. 

What he didn't understand was why she was wearing his clothes.

Because those were definitely his jeans - he recognized the oil stain on the left thigh and the huge tear on the right knee. They were old and worn enough that they fit him like a second skin. She didn't wear them quite as well, but the visual was still... more than fine. Confusing as fuck, but definitely okay by him. The shirt was easy to identify too - both shirts she was wearing, actually. She was stretching out his favorite AC/DC t-shirt, not that he'd ever confront her about it, because she would make him say that the reason was her boobs and then she'd kick his ass for saying it. The flannel button up over it was a new favorite, one given to him by (of course) Steve. It was soft and warm and made him look like a lumberjack, but a fashionable one. He was going to really miss it if she didn't give it back.

So yeah, those were his clothes and she looked really good in them because she looked good in everything. The _why_ of it was the thing causing the blue-screen his mind was experiencing. Natasha had never, to his knowledge, snuck onto his floor to eat his food and steal his clothes before. It was fucking weird, and she still hadn't even looked at him, and he was starting to feel like he was the one intruding on her. Huh. Maybe he was hallucinating. He'd been up for like... four days and three nights, if his phone was to be believed. He did find Nat attractive, and yeah, sure, he'd indulged in a few daydreams now and again because she was strong and beautiful and a little dangerous which was just how he liked his women, but he'd never expected them to come _true_. So maybe this was a hallucination or a dream, but he really didn't think so, not even with the scent of coffee in his nose.

Lured by the smell he'd finally processed, Tony finally stopped staring and wandered into his kitchen. There was enough for exactly two cups waiting for him in the pot, which he took as a silent command. This was all just... so weird. Still, he poured both cups and mixed in cream and sugar - one the way he liked it, one the way Nat liked it. She still hadn't moved when he reentered the living room (though her toes were still doing a little dance) so he went to the couch and stared for a few seconds before gingerly sitting on that empty end. It was a comfortable couch, so he kind of resented the fact that he felt like he had to perch on the edge instead of settling in and relaxing. That made him set his mug down a little harder than he should have and he lost at least a sip of the precious drink when it sloshed over the edge. Because he was a gracious host and she still looked really good in his clothes even if he was a little mad at her, he set her mug down with a lot more care.

Tony had thought he could wait her out. Eventually she _had_ to look at him or speak to him, didn't she? That or she'd have to leave, which was fine. He could at least pretend to be patient until one of those things happened. Except she reached over with one hand and found the handle of her mug without looking over and took a delicate sip and she still hadn't even acknowledged him. With that, Tony broke.

"Hey Nat?"

"Hmm?"

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? Especially when she tipped her head back far enough that she could look at him upside down, one brow arched and that stupid mug still in her hand. If he tried the same trick he'd have spilled coffee all over himself, and it just wasn't fair. But she was acting like nothing out of the ordinary was going on, and maybe it wasn't? Honestly it was all enough to make him feel like this had all been planned and agreed upon, and he was too tired to rock the boat. So he couldn't demand answers or ask her to leave, because maybe he was the one who was being weird. "... I didn't know you liked Harry Potter," he finally answered lamely, internally wincing at his idiocy.

In his defense, he was under-caffeinated, tired and really confused.

She shrugged - still not spilling so much as a drop of coffee - and closed the book, saving her page with one finger. "After we watched the movies I was curious."

"Huh. Okay then. Which, ah... which book are you on?" Talking was supposed to be his thing, but he was failing miserably and he knew it. This was just Natasha; they'd been living and fighting together for months now. He'd saved her life a few times and she'd stitched him up when he'd refused to go to medical. So what if she was being weird? He still didn't have to try so hard. When he came to that realization, he relaxed and eased back into his seat, one arm draped over the back of the couch while he picked up his mug with the other hand. She had the ghost of a smile on her lips when he looked back over and he returned it easily before saluting her with his drink. "And thanks for this."

"I wanted coffee," she said like it wasn't a big deal. Like she didn't choose tea instead almost every morning. The fact that he still knew how she took it said something... he just wasn't sure what. "And I'm reading 'The Prisoner of Azkaban'."

"Is there a reason you're reading it in my living room?" The question came out light and teasing instead of accusing like it would have before, so that was a point in his favor. "Also, I demand you hand over what's left of my cake," he added, pointing to the plate resting on her stomach. Then he gave a theatrical gasp, making his eyes go wide and pressing his free hand over his heart. "That's why you're here, isn't? For the cake."

The look she gave him was flat and unimpressed, but it wasn't long before that small smile was back. "If you can take the cake from me, you can have it." Tony was soooo not taking up that challenge, because that sweet tone in her voice promised bloodshed if he tried. "And I came up here because it's quiet. I wanted to read and the other boys are all playing on the Wii."

Video game nights were among the loudest in the tower, so it was almost a plausible reason. Except he'd seen her tune it out before, and if they were all playing video games then the floor she shared with Clint would be just as quiet as the penthouse. But she'd made him coffee... so maybe she wanted both quiet and company. Tony could live with that reason, because he knew he liked the times when he was working on his tablet in the morning and Steve was a chair away reading the paper and Bruce was across the way doing the crossword and Nat was on his other side sharpening weapons or reading. It was a nice, quiet way to start the morning, though it always descended into chaos the moment Clint or Thor walked in.

What it _didn't_ explain was why the fuck she was wearing his clothes. He still didn't have it in him to ask her about it, so he'd probably never know.

Tony finished off the coffee quickly, then settled back in. Nat had wanted quiet, so he didn't try to force more conversation out of her. He didn't speak when she suddenly put the plate that still had half a piece of cake on it in his lap for him to finish. He didn't comment on it when she put her mug back on the coffee table after only a few more tiny sips - he'd known she didn't really want it. Tony was more tempted to start a nervous conversation when (after the cake was gone) she shifted just enough to rest her head on his thigh, but instead he just asked JARVIS to dim the lights a little. Not enough that she couldn't see to read, but enough that when he tipped his head back and closed his eyes they stopped aching. He didn't remember starting to stroke her hair, but suddenly there were soft, silky red strands playing around his fingers. It felt nice, and she would have not a single problem telling him if she didn't like it, so he kept going.

Sleep snuck up on him as silently as a red-headed assassin, and he was out like a light before he knew it.

~.~.~

"You were supposed to go to medical."

Tony jumped at the sound of Natasha's voice, which sent pain ripping through his abdomen. "Fucking _fuck_ ," he hissed, pressing his hand to the jagged cut he'd gotten during the fight. Making the armor modular had been a stroke of genius in many ways, but there were also drawbacks - a particularly hard hit had caused one of the pieces to buckle and bury an edge in his flesh. He'd finished the fight without drawing attention to the problem, but Steve had nearly lost his mind after it was done and he realized what had happened. "I did go to medical," he told her shortly, turning his attention back to cleaning the wound. Steve had ordered him to, after all, and not obeying would have earned him sad eyes for a week. "Then I fucked off. It's not that I don't trust SHIELD personnel to not steal bits of my armor as they peel it off me, but I don't trust SHIELD at all with my tech. Fury would love to get his grubby paws all over even a small part of my suit."

He was going to need stitches, he'd known that much from the start. It would be an awkward angle - he couldn't bend enough to see if he'd mopped up enough to see the actual edge of the cut - but he would have managed. If worst came to worst, he could have had Dum-E hold up a mirror for him to work from.

With Nat there, he didn't need to worry.

She'd crossed to him while he was badmouthing her former organization and the boss he knew she cared about, but there was none of the usual irritation on her face. There wasn't the normal protest or reprimand either, which left Tony floundering a little. Everyone knew how he felt about SHIELD and its director, but Nat had always seemed to take it personally. To have her just quietly take over the cleaning and care of his injury had him feeling like an ass. He wasn't wrong, not really, but he didn't have to take every opportunity to rub his feelings about the organization that had saved her in her face. Sighing, he laid a hand over hers, stilling it as she was gently pushing on his shoulder to get him to lay down. She looked up at him with her brow arched in a silent question. "I'm sorry, Natasha."

"It's fine. SHIELD hasn't always treated you well." He hated the guilt that briefly flashed in her eyes; they'd put that initial assessment behind them, but he didn't think she'd ever really forget it. "I know that better than anyone. And Fury would love to get his hands on your suit, you're not wrong about that. Now lay down before I put you down."

"There's the Nat I know and love," he teased, doing as he was told. It was something he only did for her, Pepper and Steve, so he hoped she fucking appreciated it. "I think I have everything ready that you'll need." The hint of redness in her cheeks had to be his imagination, and sure enough it was gone before he could even really process it. He watched her as she double-checked the supplies he'd brought out, then gave a brisk nod.

"It's all there. But you should have let an actual doctor or nurse look at this."

"If I could have taken off my suit first, I would have. But I sort of had to pry that piece out-" He could almost hear it when her head whipped around so she could glare right at him, expression fierce and beautiful. "A little! I mean, just a little tugging with some forceps and it was fine. Hurt like a bitch, but it was going to do that no matter how it got taken out, and I remembered to put a cloth down to limit the amount of blood I'd need to clean up later, and I am really not helping myself out here am I?"

"Not even a little. Why didn't you come to me? I would have helped you, Antosha." Tony honestly couldn't tell if she was scolding him or being sweet. He was even further confused by the way she brushed her fingers over his shoulder before she started cleaning out his wound to her satisfaction.

"I know. But I didn't want you to worry, and with Clint's hearing aides broken I knew he'd want you with _him_ in medical because you're the best at signing and I figured you didn't need me distracting you-"

"It wouldn't be a distraction, idiot." The fondness in her voice was more pronounced now - it was the same tone of voice she used with Clint. That made him feel sort of warm and fuzzy, though that could be the blood loss, come to think of it. "We're teammates. We take care of each other. Steve can sign almost as well as I do, and with Thor here with his Allspeak-"

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

"Well start thinking, Antosha. You won't let anyone else do this for you-"

"You stuck a needle in my neck once and I didn't wake up dead, so I feel like I can trust you."

The sigh she gave him was world weary, but she had one of those small, genuine smiles on her lips. "No, you just know that I wouldn't have a problem knocking you out if you didn't let me take care of you."

"That too," he admitted as she finished up with the cleaning and began getting ready to stitch him up. "Haven't numbed anything up yet, so maybe stick me with another syringe before you use the actual needle."

"I have done this before." Tony was sort of surprised her eyes didn't roll right out of her head - of course she would know to apply the local anesthetic. She did so quickly, and his muscles started to relax as the pain faded. "And if I have to chase you down to do it again instead of you asking, I'll tell Steve your hand to hand needs work and I'll kick your ass in the training room for at least a week straight." The threat was a serious one, he knew - the way her eyes narrowed as she sent him a warning look told him so. "If you won't trust SHIELD's medical team, then you _will_ come to me."

"Or you could sit in the room with me while they do their thing. You wouldn't let them steal my tech." Nat looked so surprised that it sort of broke his heart a little. Did she not understand yet that he trusted her?

"... no, I wouldn't. Not even if Fury asked." Another brush of her fingers that was almost a caress, this time closer to the arc reactor than he let most people get. "The Avengers are my team now."

"I know. Stitch me up, Nat. I promise this will be the last time you have to hunt me down since it means so much to you. From now on I'll ask, and we can decide on if I have to go to medical or not together."

Natasha dipped her head in acknowledgement of his promise, but stayed quiet. That meant she was about to get started, so he locked his lips as well, staring up at the ceiling as she worked. She'd done it for him probably twenty times or more by now; it was one of their things. Aside from their little chat and his little vow, it had gone exactly the way it always had. Nothing was different - she left him with a row of neat little stitches that might not even scar and orders to go to his penthouse and take some pain medication. Like always, he stalled for time and sent her up the elevator alone, and he fiddled with his suit until the anesthetic wore off completely and he was in too much pain to think.

It was normal, expected, ordinary.

Except that when he finally did get up to the penthouse, Natasha was there waiting for him. She was cooking something that smelled delicious, and there was a glass of water and two pills sitting on the coffee table. He always followed even her silent commands, so he took them even though he'd be woozy and unable to think for hours afterward. A little while after he'd laid down on the couch - because he'd feel weird going to his bedroom while she was up here, not because it was soothing to watch her moving confidently in his kitchen - he realized that she was wearing his clothes again. This time it was a pair of his pajama pants, the ones with little cartoons of all their heads on them, and one of his tank tops. It wasn't quite as weird as that first time, and she really did make his clothes look good. Between that and the way he already felt like someone had wrapped his head in thick cotton, he knew he probably wouldn't say anything about it this time either.

When she brought him a plate of food, he saw that it was some kind of stir fry. It wasn't a huge helping like Steve would have tried to make him eat, or even the regular sized portion that Bruce would have gently pushed on him. What Nat had put on his plate was smaller than usual, hopefully enough to fill him up without upsetting his stomach - pain medication made him nauseous if he ate too much after taking it. There was just enough room on the far end of the couch for her to curl up if she let him rest her feet in his lap... which she did. She turned the TV on to a mindless channel with the volume down low and grabbed her latest book - something he'd never heard of that had been on the bestseller list. One hand resting on his shin, she stayed quiet instead of pressuring him to eat or sleep. She didn't reprimand him when he could only finish half of the meal she'd cooked, and when he gave a shiver she tugged the blanket on the back of the couch down and spread it over him without commenting that he'd be more comfortable in his bed.

With a strange, strong feeling that he was missing something, Tony eventually drifted off to sleep.

~.~.~

Tony loved Pepper like a bossy younger sister, he really did. So when she'd asked him to fly out to Malibu to schmooze some of the West Coast stockholders, he'd done it. When she'd told him that he needed to take a meeting with the Board of Directors almost immediately after he'd landed, he believed her and he went. Even when she'd suggested he take a quick tour of the R&D department before he went up to the floors where the Avengers lived, he'd only allowed himself one pleading look before he did it.

His schedule over the last few days had been hectic and harrowing, but the brilliant smile she'd turned his way when he was finally allowed to go the fuck home had made it all worth it. She loved the new and improved, more responsible approach he'd taken towards the company since he'd joined the Avengers. Tony'd had to do it - between Pepper's insistence, Steve's reproachful looks and Nat's subtle nudging, he hadn't stood a chance at resisting. In the past few months, _years_ had melted off his CEO and he'd do just about anything to keep her happy and soft and smiling.

But fuck did he hope she didn't ask him to do so much in such a short time span again for a while.

Dealing with the company and all the assholes who thought they knew his tech and SI better than he did drained him in a way staying up for five days to invent and create never did. He'd do it for Pep, but he hated it. All he wanted to do was stop by the common room to check in on everyone, maybe have a beer as they caught up, and then go take a nap. He was really looking forward to his plan for the rest of the day, and as the elevator rose to the common floor, he shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Clint would still make fun of him for being 'too fancy', but it would in a fond way so Tony would happily put up with it.

Tony was eager to see his team, and despite his exhaustion he was smiling widely as he stepped off the elevator. The expression lasted for about two seconds, because that was all it took for the mess in front of him to sink in. There had clearly been a prank war while he was away, and it had been this floor that suffered for it. There were splashes of what might have been neon paint or slime covering most of the walls which were also decorated with quite a few new holes. From what he could see of the kitchen, the entire tile floor had been covered in what appeared to be an inch of glitter. Said glitter was then trailed over all the carpeting, because no one had bothered to clean it up before _using_ the kitchen. The TV was smoking, there were scorch marks in the felt covering the pool table, and there were several plates of abandoned food littering the space.

Standing in the middle of it all was Clint and Thor, both of them frozen in the act of throwing balloons full of... something. Tony suspected they were lobbing whatever had splattered the walls at each other, because they were covered in it too. The usually-responsible Steve was standing a few feet away from them, similarly covered, and he was probably hiding his own set of balloons behind his back. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, which was good - he wouldn't have to try and kill her, and she might help him hide the other bodies if he asked her nicely.

"Friend Tony!" Thor called in greeting, smiling like the lot of them hadn't practically destroyed an entire floor. "You have returned! How fared you on your travels?"

"We were going to clean this up," Steve hastened to add, probably reading the mounting storm Tony knew was in his expression. "Honest. You were supposed to be gone longer. Pepper said you wouldn't be home until Saturday-"

"I finished early." Where Steve had the grace to flinch away from his flat tone, Clint and Thor looked unrepentant. "What the _fuck_ is going on?"

"Steve started it," Clint and Thor proclaimed in unison, then stepped forward to give each other a high five. That had been obviously rehearsed, which meant it was total bullshit. Maybe Steve had been drawn into the fray - occasionally he forgot to be Captain America and let himself live a little - but he was definitely not the one who'd started it. Tony would bet a lot of money that the actual perpetrator was Clint.

"Besides," the little shit started, turning to face Tony. "It's not like we messed up _your_ floor. This one belongs to all of us, and we're gonna clean it up. No reason to be so pissy."

" _Pissy_?" Steve was starting to inch toward the door that led to the bathroom, because he wasn't stupid. A lousy goddamned babysitter sometimes, but not stupid. "You think I'm being pissy? Do you have any idea how much fixing this is going to _cost_?! And what the hell did you do to my walls? You're fucking lucky whatever punched through them didn't hit any electrical wires, and you'd better hope the structural integrity isn't compromised, or I will kick your asses out." The words were directed more towards Clint and Thor. Tony let Steve escape, because a more effective approach with him would be to quietly address it later. Disappointment was better than yelling with the co-leader of the Avengers. "Why the hell is there glitter all over my floor, and what the fuck did you do to the pool table? I was gone for _three days_!" Thor was starting to look apologetic, but Clint was still rolling his eyes. "You know what? I just wanted to come home and relax a little, but instead I have to deal with this bullshit. Fine. That's just fine. I'm not upgrading one goddamned piece of equipment for _any of you_ until all of this glitter is off _every single fucking floor in this tower_."

Clint finally blanched, Tony noted with glee. He obviously knew how hard it was to get glitter out of carpet, and JARVIS would be able to tell him if any of the floors he didn't visit frequently were more sparkly than usual. "That's not fair!"

"Neither is life! Where the hell is Natasha?" Because she could have stopped the madness. Maybe she would have engaged in a prank or two, but she'd have started knocking heads together once it started getting out of hand.

"Our fair Lady of the Spiders was called away by Fury to assist with a mission," Thor told him sorrowfully. If any of the rest of them had called her that, Nat would have given a threatening smile and sharpen a knife in front of them. From Thor, however, she seemed to find the mangling of her code name adorable. He only called her that in jest, really, because he knew it was ridiculous; that he'd thrown it out there now meant he was trying to soften Tony up with humor. "I must apologize, friend Tony. We have behaved shamefully and abused your hospitality. I promise you that I will endeavor to remove this smirch on my honor. I will strive to restore your faith in me. I swear to you, friend Tony, that I will not rest unt-"

"Shut up, Thor," Tony told him tiredly. "I know you'll do your fair share to clean this place up. Just make sure Clint and Steve do the same, alright?"

Before Thor could puff up at that small sign of trust, before Clint could go from baffled to offended, the elevator chimed in cheerfully to announce another arrival. Tony sort of hoped it was Pepper, because she would grab hold of Clint _and_ Thor by their ears and drag them off to get cleaning supplies. They would have let her do it too, both of the burly muscular men who dwarfed Pepper would have trailed after her like chastened children - it had happened before and he had photographic evidence to prove it. When he turned around and saw Natasha though, he wasn't disappointed. As a matter of fact, he was almost overwhelmed with affection and happiness - he'd missed her more than he'd let himself realize. Because he hated the rest of their team apart from Bruce (who would have hidden in his lab as soon as the prank war really got going), he let himself get swept up in the feeling and went to her in a few quick strides, wrapping her up in a tight hug.

He should have been more surprised than he was when her immediate reaction was to drop her duffel bag and hug him in return. "Naaat. Look what they did to my tower," he whined into her hair, vaguely noting that it smelled pretty amazing - especially since she'd just gotten home from a mission. Like something citrusy but still kind of sweet - whatever it was, he liked it. "We can't both be gone at the same time anymore, because loooooook."

"I am looking." Though her words were mild, her expression when she looked over his shoulder was something to behold because he was pretty sure he'd just _heard_ both Clint and Thor gulp. "And I'm not impressed. This will all be fixed by tomorrow." It wasn't a question, and Tony loved her for it. And just in general, really now that he thought about it.

Huh. That was... that was something.

Feeling pretty stunned by the revelation, Tony blinked several times, then eased out of their hug - which had lasted too long to be friendly. Hadn't it? He was pretty sure it had, and fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He was so fucked.

"You're the only one I'm making upgrades for until the glitter is gone," he told her, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't just announce it in front of everybody. That would be... something else. And anyway, she probably wouldn't ever want to do anything as ridiculous as date him - she'd nearly kicked his ass as Natalie Rushman when he'd even hinted at it jokingly. "Welcome home?"

He came pretty close to swooning when a bright, nearly sweet smile broke out over her face. And wow, that was... that was even better than Pepper's smile. Nat could bring nations to their knees looking like that - or at least genius billionaire philanthropists that hadn't been playboys in quite a while. God, he was fucked. "Welcome home, Antosha. Come. We should leave them to their cleaning."

It was only as she was walking away, heading back to the elevator, that he realized what she was wearing. Natasha Romanov had been walking around, _in public_ , wearing one of his hoodies from MIT. The one from the engineering club he'd briefly been a part of to get his adviser off his back. The one with his goddamned _name_ on the back, and she was just... just wearing it, casual as anything. He'd gotten it a few sizes too big, because hoodies were meant to be comfortable - on her, that meant it fell to mid-thigh, and under that she was only wearing a pair of black leggings.

His brain short-circuited, and before he knew it they'd reached the penthouse. She hadn't gotten off on the floor she shared with Clint, and she was wearing his hoodie, and there was still a soft smile tugging at her lips. Nat just kept... kept coming around and wearing his clothes, and maybe... maybe he wasn't as fucked as he'd thought.

Tony trailed after her as she walked to the couch - the one that they'd spent an awful lot of nights on lately, he realized. There was a stack of her books on the floor by 'her' end, and he hadn't noticed the small pile of her shoes by the door until she'd toed off the pair she had been wearing and added them to it. Come to think of it, he'd never put that blanket on the back of his couch, so it had to be hers, and he was pretty sure there was a teakettle in the kitchen now that was definitely not his.

Huh.

Before Nat could sit down, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She stopped and turned to him, head tipped to one side and that perfectly beautiful eyebrow of hers raised in a question. He thought for a few seconds, again going over the evidence and adding up all the clues. He hoped like hell he'd reached the right conclusion. Finally he slid his fingers down further until he was holding her hand - her own fingers curled over his and squeezed. "I'm kind of an idiot, aren't I?"

"Yes," she returned immediately, lips twitching up into a smile.

"You could have said something."

"You would have run." Okay, that was fair. Tony totally would have run - he'd have fucked off to Malibu and done everything he could think of to make Nat change her mind, because he didn't _do_ relationships. Sure he'd stopped having casual sex and drinking was more of a social activity than an attempt to reach sweet oblivion, but still. Actual adult human relationships scared the shit out of him, because he knew he would fuck up. "It was better this way. Pepper and Rhodes said that if I acted like we were seeing each other without talking about it I could ease you into the idea without spooking you." The pause in her speech and the way she bit her lower lip revealed her nerves, and for the first time that he could remember she looked shy. "Are you spooked?"

"No. You talked to Pepper and Rhodey about this? Before you talked to me?"

Natasha nodded, expression going serious again. "Of course. I knew I would need their blessing sooner or later, and I needed their advice as well."

"Are... are you asking me to marry you? Because blessings are usually marriage-related, and it's not that I don't have feelings for you, but we haven't even kissed yet, so I feel like a proposal might be jumping the gun. What if you hate the way I kiss? Plus I'm pretty sure I'd be a shit husband and a barely acceptable boyfriend, so we should maybe have a trial period before you put a ring on it. Not that I wouldn't buy _you_ a ring," he added, knowing he was babbling and being ridiculous but not able to stop himself. But she was still smiling, and after she sat down on the couch she tugged him down to join her, so maybe it was alright. "Because I totally would and it would be beautiful. Not a rock or anything, not for you - rubies would be better, I think. Did you know rubies are actually more rare than diamonds? I think they're prettier too, and not just because they're red, and I think a thinner band with one or two smaller stones would be best, because you deserve something beautiful and delicate, and we'd need to get us both chains so we could wear our rings around our necks while we're fighting and I'd really like it if maybe we had trackers in them, because you never really know what could happen in our line of work."

Natasha wasn't even trying to interrupt him yet. He'd needed very little encouraging to drape one arm over her shoulders, and she'd been quick to tuck herself against his side and settle her head on his shoulder. One of her hands had snaked around behind his back to grab hold of his shirt, while the other was tracing patterns over the arc reactor. He'd only ever let Pepper touch it before, and that had only been because he needed her help. If anyone else even got too close, he panicked - especially after what had happened with Stane. But there Nat was, just idly stroking it over his shirt, and he actually... liked it. He trusted her and he was pretty sure he loved her, and she was just letting him babble with a happy smile on her face and she was wearing his hoodie, so he thought maybe she might love him too.

"Pepper will want to plan the wedding, or at least help you do it, because she's practically my little sister and if you don't let her she'll cry and I hate it when she cries, but if you really didn't want her help I could probably find a way to let her down gently. I'll have to see if Rhodey and Bruce will be my best men, and Happy would love to drive us to the plane that'll take us to our honeymoon spot - you can decide that, though I will say I'm partial to warmer weather, but I'd totally honeymoon in Antarctica with you if you had your heart set on it. And I think we should get Steve to officiate - he'd be so embarrassed but also really fucking happy, and I love that combination on him. Would it be weird if I made you an AI as a wedding present? You should have one of your own, and I hope you don't mind adopting JARVIS and the boys, because they're sort of my kids and honestly I don't really want any actual human kids, because I'd break them, so I hope you're okay with that? Anyway, I'll make you an AI that'll do all sorts of neat shit for when you go out on missions, that way you'll be safer and I'll worry a little less. You're also due for a lot of upgrades. So many upgrades. Hey Nat?"

"Antosha?"

"I can't remember if we're actually engaged or not."

When she started to laugh into his neck, the sound full and rich and unrestrained, Tony decided that he would be babbling a lot more often around her. He'd always been pretty sure everyone hated it when he went off on too many tangents in the same ramble, but Nat... she'd been listening and cuddling and seemed genuinely pleased and amused with where he'd ended up. So yeah - babbling good. Smiling himself, he ran his hand up her back, then let it sink into her beautiful hair. She always seemed to like that, and it was soothing for him as well. When she finally had herself under control again, she tipped her head back and looked up at him with an expression that, for her, bordered on adoring.

"No, we're not engaged. But if we ever are... I liked everything you said. So maybe. Someday."

"Would you be mad if I gave you jewelry with trackers in it before then? Because the thought of you being hurt and alone somewhere where I can't find you is terrifying and it always has been, but I kind of thought you'd kill me with your thighs if I asked you before."

"You can put trackers on me, Antosha. I trust you not to abuse them." He wouldn't, either - Nat's trust was far too rare and precious to throw away like that.

"Great. Awesome. I'll make sure you have access to mine. And I'll probably start building you an AI now, because I honestly have been thinking about that for a while too, and I think I might have had feelings for you for a really long time without realizing it."

"That's because you're an idiot."

"A big one."

"Yes. But you're my idiot, which makes it endearing instead of annoying."

"That's sweet. Thanks Tasha." Before she could respond, he used his free hand to tip her chin up again, then captured her lips with his own. As first kisses went, it was the fucking best that he'd ever had. It wasn't just that she returned it without hesitation, or the way her hand lifted to cup his jaw. It wasn't only her scent in his nose or the warmth and comfort of her body pressed against his. It wasn't the taste of her or the soft noise of pleasure she made either. It was that all of it was _Natasha_ , the woman that had hurt him in order to save him when they'd first met. They fought side by side and had learned to trust each other despite that rocky beginning. She was strong and beautiful and a little dangerous, and she was going to let him say she was his.

This was definitely one of the best moments of his life - top five, at least. When the kiss ended and Nat gave him that small, shy smile that he was a thousand percent sure only he'd seen, the moment rocketed to the top of the list. He was definitely gone on her, in a 'do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars' kind of way. For a while they just smiled at each other like two idiots in love, and then she had her head on his shoulder again, and her hand was splayed over the arc reactor. The gesture didn't feel oppressive or frightening - it felt like a promise to keep him safe.

Iron Man was about to launch into a relationship with Black Widow, and it was going to be fucking amazing. And, in a way, Nick Fury was responsible for all of it. He'd sent Nat to Tony - to spy on him, admittedly, but still. There was definitely a fruit basket or flowers or something in Fury's future. He wondered if Edible Arrangements could do something with a pirate them.

When he mentioned the idea to Natasha, she started laughing again, then helped him plan out what such an arrangement would look like. He worried that maybe they wouldn't be willing to do it, and she'd just leaned up to give him a soft kiss. "If you can't make it happen," she murmured against his lips, smiling. "I'll talk to them. I can be very... persuasive."

Yeah. He loved her, and not just because she looked amazing in his clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care what canon MCU says, the team LIVES TOGETHER and have corny shit like movie and game nights, and they're all friends and they take care of each other.
> 
> I have a tumblr that is [here](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com) if ya ever want to say hi or throw me a prompt. <3


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